A unique take on iris – beautiful and slightly strange. Have you ever eaten a raspberry crème brulee? By some weird quirk of culinary alchemy, the vanilla custard and the raspberry transmute each other into something completely different from their normal selves – the custard loses its bland sweetness and takes on the sharp fruitiness of the berry, while the berry has its raspberry identity completely sanded down, leaving only a bright, citric fleshiness in its place. The end result tastes nothing like custard or raspberry, but is a completely new taste born from their union.

Something similar happens in Impossible Iris. The custardy, plasticky ylang and the bright, sour raspberry mix with a cool, powdered suede iris, and the result smells nothing like either one of the original ingredients to the pot.

True, there is a distinctly moist fruit note, but it is more the blue-green shimmer of a wet raspberry leaf than the vulva-pink flesh of the berry itself. The ylang divests itself of its usual steamy, banana-like nuances, and combined with the rooty tones of the iris, blows up the hairspray and plastic hairnet side of its personality.

The iris, slicked in these juices, takes on a aerosol tone, like the fresh emission from a can of suede boot cleaner or furniture polish. Somehow, it emerges from the fruit, mimosa, and ylang as a wholly new creature, wobbly on its legs, but utterly beautiful.

Here's another candidate in my personal search for my first Iris purchase. This is a fruity Iris (something I haven't some across before), and while the manufacturer's notes tell me to expect framboise, I'm getting more mango and almost papaya on the to--at any rate, this smells quite exotic, with all the jasmine and ylang woven around it. The idea of a prim fragrance like iris letting its hair down is nice, but I feel like what I have here is a well-made floral tied together with the earthy notes of the aforementioned flowers and fruits with a little musk and maybe a hint of sandalwood on the drydown. The iris is in here, but I have to look for it, and that's not what I want. I keep picturing Miss Moneypenny in a conga line in Acapulco.

Impossible Iris by Ramon Monegal features an iris note that is similar to the one found in Terre d'Iris by Miller Harris. I enjoy both fragrances quite a bit; in fact, this is my favorite RM fragrance so far—it’s a wet, green, iris with a large dose of sweet mimosa that smells of the highest quality shampoo. I decided to run a comparison and applied II to one arm and TdI to the other. Then I asked the dear Hubs to sniff each arm and tell me which he preferred. (The dear Hubs is a “(-)fragrance fan”.) He chose II, so I immediately put TdI on my full bottle list.

l get a soapy, fizzy, aldehydic opening that tickles my nose & makes me sneeze. As it settles, l detect a powdery, fuzzy floral note, more akin to mimosa than iris. Gradually, however, the iris comes through, & a couple of hours in the raspberry note adds a little tartness without giving the scent an overly fruity feel. l don't get ylang or jasmine here, & there's no discernable base. The projection is medium, & it fades out around seven hours in.
l'm not an iris afficianado, but l find this one to be a bright, cheerful spring floral, in a similar vein to Byredo's La Tulipe, although they don't smell the same. For me though, La Tulipe is the more beautiful of the two.

this is feminine scent, its fruty raspberry scent, its sweet and almost powdery in the dry down and bit thin , synthetic as well

i was expecting so much more :) , the opening reminded me the most of iris silver mist,thats the part i loved, but soon it turns into fruity scent, with very little iris .....and very little excitement for me

its likable, but nothing impossible here:) fruity part overwhelmes it all.....for insolence lovers!